The Coruscant Masquerade Ball
by Andrea P. Quintell
Summary: Luke Skywalker hates the fancy Masquerade Ball that Leia hosts every single year. Luke has a few drinks... who knows what will happen to make the party interesting? Set post Thrawn trilogy. Oneshot.


It was the most anticipated event of the entire year. The highlight of every autumn season, for which creatures from all over the galaxy waited with baited breath, dreaming about the fantastical visions they would behold at the annual Coruscant Masquerade Ball. Only the finest food, wine, and company were actually allowed inside, of course- the less privileged species would have to watch the event being broadcast on the Holonet- but for those lucky thousands who were actually invited, this was the party to end all parties.

Luke Skywalker detested it.

Every year, when the air began to cool and the leaves began to fall off the trees- that is, Luke imagined they would if any trees could be found on Coruscant-, his sister Leia Organa Solo would begin the preparations. As the New Republic's Chief of State, she was in charge of hosting the spectacular shindig, and she loved every minute of it. The unofficial motto of the party was "come as you're not", and Leia did her best to arrange for the myriad of caterers, sommeliers, musicians, and Force only knows what else, into a complicated mix of something she called "elegant society". It was easy for Leia, who had grown up living a princess's lifestyle on Alderaan, to melt back in to being a member of the posh elite. Luke, who had been raised working on his uncle and aunt's moisture farm, checking the vaporators every day and making sure his uncle's latest droid purchase wasn't completely rusted through, was not so used to it. The whole ordeal just made him feel awkward and out of place, even though he had every right to be there, as the Chief of State's brother and one of a handful of Jedi Knights currently alive. He suspected his brother-in-law, Han Solo, felt similarly about the superfluousness of it all, but then again, as long as the expensive aged Corellian whiskey flowed freely (as it was wont to do in these sorts of events), Han would be sure to have a good time. And he did, every single year. Luke hoped that he would at least keep his clothes on the entire night this time around.

Luke should have volunteered to babysit the Solo children, he thought unhappily. Jaina and Jacen were very active toddlers, and Anakin was still an infant- and therefore a lot of work- but it would be better than this. Well, there would be a few people he knew- his sister and brother-in-law, of course, Lando Calrissian, Talon Karrde… even Mara Jade would probably be invited, although considering she still kind of wanted to kill him, he thought he'd best avoid her if possible.

As the light outside began to turn red and orange, the guests started to arrive at the Palace. The largest ballroom could fit a little over ten thousand guests, and it was beginning to fill quite nicely. Nobody wanted to be late. Luke stood next to his sister near the top of the staircase, watching the arrivals from all over the star systems, fidgeting uncomfortably in his robes. His sith lord mask, styled differently than his father's but still black, glossy, and forbidding, was beginning to make him perspire, and the thick black robes were itchy. Leia had insisted that dressing like a Darth Vader-esque sith lord would be hilarious- and if Luke didn't want to dress up like Vader, there was always an adorable womp rat costume in the back of the closet that he could wear. No thanks, thought Luke, and had donned the plasticine black helmet. Leia looked lovely in her Alderaanian swan costume, with the white feathers and jewels glistening in the low light of the ballroom.

"How lovely to see you, Councilor," she said to a Bothan that had just entered. She bowed to the Rodian behind him. "Welcome, so nice to see you," she crooned. See-Threepio was standing to her other side, translating whenever he was needed.

Han, dressed in complete space pirate wear complete with eyepatch and scruffy facial hair, was next to Luke, and seemed very anxious to leave. "Hey, Kid," he muttered through the side of his mouth. "Want to go check out the refreshments with me?"

"Sounds great," Luke said, his own voice muffled by his mask. How his father had gotten such a clear speaking tone out of this thing was beyond him. He nudged Leia through the Force, and felt her disapproval, but he could feel her reluctant affirmation that he and Han could indeed go off to enjoy the rest of the party while she was stuck greeting guests for at least another half hour. "We're free," he added, turning to Han and stepping away from his sister.

"See ya in a few rounds of Sabaac," Han smirked with a wink, and was swallowed up by the crowd. Luke turned in the other direction, desperate for something to help him get past this excruciatingly dull masquerade. Naturally, people would expect the Great And Powerful Luke Skywalker to behave properly at the most elegant gala of the year- and then again, people would expect nothing of a generic, mid-height humanoid dressed as Darth Vader. Hundreds of people came in Vader costumes every year, and Luke knew it would be the perfect disguise. He could do whatever he wanted to, really…

Almost unconsciously, he found himself making his way toward the Corellian whiskey tasting table. Luke had never had much of a taste for the stuff, but he knew that it was popular to add cream whiskey to hot chocolate, and at an event like this, the bar would definitely be stocked. He ordered his drink and raised it to his face. Paused. How was he supposed to drink with this blasted mask on? He hadn't thought of that. Luckily, he found a canister of straws nearby, and found that he could just fit one through the breathing vent in his helmet. As it turned out, Corellian cream whiskey was fantastic in hot chocolate- and, having nothing else to do, Luke managed to drink three of the concoctions before he moved on, not wanting to be too conspicuous.

At the Hapan gold wine tasting table, there were more wonders to behold. In particular, there was a lovely vintage that was supposed to have the notes of nerf steak and blue milk, and while it seemed ludicrous to Luke at the time, after his fourth glass, he could definitely taste both of the flavors. He mused that it was interesting how the bartenders were giving him more and more delicious drinks with every one he ordered. The fifth glass was the tastiest yet. Luke glanced at his costume's built-in wrist chrono and found that more than an hour had somehow passed since he had left Leia's side. Fantastic. In just five more hours, the party would be over and he could go home and get out of this stupid outfit.

He stepped away from the table, chuckling a bit as he realized his balance wasn't responding to his expectations. Probably just because it was so hot and stuffy in this mask, he thought. Best to take it off and get some air. But where?

Luke wandered, a bit unsteadily, toward the 'freshers down the hall. The music wasn't so loud here, but there were still crowds of people clustered around. His thoughts were fuzzy (could there be ysalamiri nearby? He wondered), but he knew enough that he did not want to remove his mask in front of thirty other males waiting for their turn in the 'fresher. The line for the female 'freshers was almost twice as long, which meant there would be almost a hundred people going "Look, it's Luke Skywalker!" and rushing over for autographs. No, this would not do… he would have to go elsewhere.

He made his way back into the ballroom, pausing at a few more of the tasting tables- the Tatooine booth with the tan, fruit-flavored cocktail that had been a specialty at the Mos Eisley Cantina had made him especially nostalgic and even a little teary-eyed- before decided that it was indeed far too crowded and he would have to find somewhere else to rest.

Down at the end of a different hall, away from most of the crowds of people, he noticed a door that was hidden away in a darkened corner of the hallway. He tried the keypad, and was relieved when the door slid open without even needing a passcode. Inside, it was dark, but Luke managed to find a power switch and before he realized he had pressed it, a dim red light lit the room. "This will do nicely," Luke said softly to himself- at least, he thought he was speaking softly, but it sounded sort of like his ears were less alert than they used to be, so it's possible he was speaking at top volume. Oh well, nobody would be able to hear him over the din of the music in the main ballroom.

He yanked the helmet until the top part came off, and then tugged on the mask until it released itself from his face, which was now drenched in sweat. Sweet, fresh, unfiltered air flooded his nose and mouth, and he instantly felt better, albeit still woozy. The mask must have been interfering with his breathing or something. He was definitely having trouble feeling the Force as clearly now as well, because his thoughts were all jumbled. As he sank down to sit on a soft pile of rags on the floor, he remembered when his uncle had first bought Threepio and Artoo-Detoo, and how Artoo had run away because they'd convinced him to remove the restraining bolt, and he burst into laughter. Five minutes later, the memory of his uncle and aunt being tortured and killed by Imperial troops floated to the front of his mind, and he burst into tears. Perhaps he was coming down with something, some kind of illness that caused irrational mood swings. The thought made him furious, and he slammed his mechanical hand against the wall in frustration.

To Luke's surprise, the door of the dimly lit room opened, and a giant pittin walked in. He knew somewhere in the back of his mind that pittins were usually small household pets, but this one was almost as tall as he was. He yelped in surprise. "A giant pittin!"

"Oh, shut up," said the pittin, her voice revealing her as being female. "It's a costume. What are you, drunk?"

Luke shrugged, an exaggerated gesture that almost made him topple over. "I dunno," he said, his words beginning to slur a little bit. "What's drunk feel like?"

The pittin laughed, and Luke realized she was human. He felt a little foolish for not realizing that she was dressed up in a costume before, but his rapidly degenerating cognitive disorder had caused him to hallucinate. That could be the only explanation.

"Stars of Alderaan," the pittin said, "how much have you had to drink? Wait- let me guess. You've never drank alcohol before."

"Al-co-hol?" Luke marveled at the way the words felt in his mouth. "I don't drink. I hate the taste. I just looove hot chocolate though."

The pittin snorted. "Hot chocolate? Do you think you're Luke Skywalker or something? Only farm boys drink that stuff."

Luke realized that, in the dim light, she couldn't tell who he was. "I AM Sluke Lywalker… just look at my mask." He held up the Vader helmet to prove his point.

"Nice one, Sith-boy," said the pittin. "I just think it's hilarious that you're at the greatest party of the year, totally wasted, and hanging out in the cleaning droid's closet."

"So are you," Luke managed to say, before dissolving into a fit of giggles.

This made the pittin girl laugh as well. "Point taken," she replied. "I was trying to find a place to get away from all the noise of this blasted party. I'm not much one for big social events."

"Me either," said Luke. "The cleaning droid's closet is my favorite place in the whole wide world. Did you know that people put cream whiskey in hot chocolate? It's amazing!"

The pittin grinned. Luke noticed how white and clean-looking her teeth were. He could see her mouth, but her nose and eyes were covered by her pittin mask. She had very nice-looking lips. "I love cream whiskey," she said. "I sampled quite a bit of it myself."

"So you're the one who's drunk!" Luke exclaimed. "I am… sotally tober. I only sampled a few samples. Probably, I have some sort of terrible disease, which is why I can't feel the Florce anymore."

"I may have had a few refreshments," the pittin smirked. "These are some of the best samples in the galaxy, you know. I just hide my intoxication better than you do. WAY better," she explained, sliding down to sit beside him on the pile of cleaning rags. "Nice place you've got here."

"Thanks," Luke said, patting the rags. "I decorated it myself. Welcome to the couch."

Pittin-girl chuckled. "Are you this charming with all your girlfriends?"

"Me?" said Luke. "Oh, I don't really have any girlfriends. I mean, none that are still alive. I mean-"

"That's okay," the pittin interrupted him. "I think it's better that you don't say anything. You're far more charming with your mouth closed." Well, at least she thought he was charming. That was better than nothing. "Tell you what. Would you like some of the Daruvvian champagne I managed to swipe from the tasting table?" She produced a bottle of the stuff, and it took Luke a minute to realize that she had been carrying a medium-sized sachel that had contained the beverage. Her pittin-suit was form-fitting without pockets, and, to be quite honest, showed off her assets rather nicely. "Or will that be too much for you?"

"I can handle it!" Luke said, perhaps a little too forcefully, attempting to snatch the bottle out of her hands. He was unsuccessful, as his reflexes were growing slower by the minute. She held the drink just out of his reach, popped the cork with very little effort, took a long swallow, and finally handed it to him. It was delicious, tangy and cool and effervescent, the bubbles tickling his nose as he sipped. He handed it back to her, and she drank from the bottle again. "You know," said Luke, "if we share this bottle, we'll be sharing germs. You might catch what I've got. It's very serious. I barely even know who I am anymore."

Pittin-girl laughed uproariously. "Oh, there's nothing wrong with you, Sith-boy" she declared. "I realize this may be a foreign concept to you, but here's the lowdown- You. Are. Drunk. That's all."

Luke flushed-whether from the warmth of his thick robes, his close proximity to the woman, or from not realizing the problem any earlier, he didn't know. "I suppose it is possible," he said slowly, trying to calculate just how much of the "refreshments" he had imbibed over the course of the evening- and failing. He began to laugh again. "I am drunk. Drunk drunk druuunk." He tested the words.

"As for who you are," said Pittin-girl, "well, you're actually pretty cute. You know. For a Sith and all."

"Well, you're pretty cute for a giant pittin." Luke grinned. Was he actually flirting with someone? That was all the evidence he needed to know that she was right. He was definitely intoxicated. Ordinarily, he would never let down his defenses like that. Certainly not for a stranger. Yet, this woman was easy to talk to, and he felt comfortable being around her. It was a welcome change from his usual shy demeanor around women, and if he were being truly honest with himself- he was having a great time. There was something familiar about the pittin-girl, nagging at the corner of his mind… but with his mind slow and foggy from the alcohol, and his connection with the Force blurred and weaker as well… he'd figure it out later, he was sure.

Pittin-girl downed the last bit of liquid, and set the bottle on the floor. Luke could tell she was quite a bit inebriated as well, especially when she suggested they play a game usually reserved for adolescents that involved spinning the empty bottle on its side, and, well…

The first time he spun the bottle, it pointed to the door they had both used to enter, what seemed like an eternity ago. "That doesn't count!" chided Pittin-girl. "Spin it again!" He obliged, and after a few tries, the empty champagne vessel shakily came to a stop pointing directly at her. "Ha!" laughed Pittin-girl. "Now you have to kiss me."

Immediately, Luke could feel his face reddening, and he was glad for the extremely dim light that hid both his embarrassment and identity. Of course, he'd kissed a few women before, but never under such circumstances- and it always made him so nervous. In his current state, however, it was much easier to act out of character. He leaned close and found her lips with his, surprised at how natural it felt. In fact, none of the other times had ever felt so right, and he was dimly aware of how he probably should break free, but he found himself enjoying the moment too much. To his delight, she reciprocated, and he let himself let go of all his worries as they lay together on the pile of cleaning cloths, enjoying each other's company. It turned out to be a pretty good party after all, he mused.

The elegant party was winding down. Most of the guests had left, and Leia was bidding farewell to the diplomats, politicians, and other various folk who happened to be incredibly wealthy and worthy of attending the masquerade. Threepio was happily busy, calling speeder taxis for the guests who had taken perhaps a bit too much of an advantage of the free tastings, Han was joking around with Lando and Karrde not far away, and Luke was…

Where was Luke?

She probed with the Force to try and locate him, and at that moment, she spotted him ambling toward her, looking very much not like himself. His mask was gone, his hair was mussed, his robes were on backward (backward? Leia wondered) and even from a couple of meters away… "Ugh! You smell like one of those places Han likes to visit in the middle of the night. What have you been DOING?" she asked in disgust. "Are you… have you been drinking?"

Luke grinned sheepishly. "Maybe. Only a little. This was a great party, Leia," he said, wobbling a bit on unsteady legs.

Leia raised an eyebrow. "Oh really? I thought you hated the Masquerade."

"It was okay this year, I guess," Luke shrugged, still grinning that stupid farm boy smile that Leia had come to know so well over the years. He almost looked like he was hiding something…

"There you are! Stang, Kid, I didn't know where in the galaxy you went. I hoped you weren't getting into too much trouble." Han sauntered over to the siblings. "You missed the whole party."

Karrde and Lando were right behind him. "Hello, Skywalker," Karrde said. "You didn't happen to see Mara around, have you? I lost her when I went for Sabaac with these two-" he gestured to Han and Lando- "and I haven't seen her since. Maybe you saw her… she was dressed in a pittin costume."

Luke's face froze. "I, uh… I haven't seen her," he stammered, his face turning pink.

Karrde shrugged. "Perhaps she has already gone back to her room. We are staying on the grounds tonight," he explained.

"Ah… uh… yes, of course," said Luke awkwardly. "Will you excuse me? I just realized… I mean… I should…"

Han clapped him on the shoulder, leading him away from the group. "I'm just gonna take him upstairs. Looks like he needs a little help finding his apartment!" He winked at Leia. As they walked away, Leia overheard Han saying in a sly voice, "Looks like you didn't miss the WHOLE party, Kid. Next time, you gotta remember not to get any lipstick on you… and you really gotta work on your story..."

Leia rolled her eyes. Next year, the men are definitely staying at home with the children, she thought.


End file.
